


Stay the Night

by Tyll



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23052034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyll/pseuds/Tyll
Summary: This is my first effort writing these two, so any comments and criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading it!
Relationships: Eric Dier/Harry Winks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Stay the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first effort writing these two, so any comments and criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading it!

Harry lay on his stomach, feeling Eric move inside him. He was lost in the sensation, his mouth agape. Every now and then a stifled moan escaped his throat, joining Eric’s grunts in a strange symphony. Only a single ray of the street lamp got past the closed blinds, illuminating the otherwise dark room and glistening on the thin sheen of sweat on Harry’s back.

Eric sped up. His manhood glided in and out without resistance as he thrusted deeper and deeper, drawing a whimper from Harry every time he hit his prostate. Harry clenched the bed sheet in his fist; he needed something to anchor him to reality, because otherwise he’d float away in ecstasy.

Eric’s thrusts became erratic as he chased his climax. He grabbed Harry’s hips, and he pulled him closer to do away with all the distance between their bodies. He pushed ever stronger, until finally, his last grunt turned into a moan. His entire body shuddered as he balanced on the edge of orgasm, and then he let go.

He collapsed on Harry, chest heaving against back, panting, his high-pitched sobs cut short as he came into a condom still inside Harry.

Everything ceased to exist. The moment was theirs to savour without ever having to share it with anyone.

Eric was the first to move. He lifted himself off Harry and pulled his limp cock from Harry’s hole.

The loss of contact jerked Harry back to reality. He felt empty and, as Eric climbed off him to sit on the edge of the bed, alone. Without Eric’s body to cover him, he was naked, vulnerable, defenceless.

He buried his face in a pillow, and listened to Eric. He could hear him run his fingers over his buzz cut, and then he felt the bed shift as Eric reached for the nightstand.

He pulled the condom off himself, he wrapped it in a tissue, and wiped himself clean with another one. He was about to stand up when Harry reached for him.

“Wait,” he said. He sat up, and pulled his legs under his buttocks. The sheet was wet with his sweat. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

Eric didn’t move as he contemplated Harry’s words. Harry took it as an encouraging sign. He moved a hand to Eric’s shoulders, partly to make him stay and partly to feel the muscles underneath the soft skin. He snaked his other hand under Eric’s arm, resting it on his strong chest, his fingers fiddling with the soft hair growing around Eric’s nipple.

“I must go,” Eric said.

“Why?” Harry asked. “Why can’t you sleep here for once?”

Eric turned back and looked Harry in the eye. His face was impossible to read, and, not for the first time, Harry felt like he didn’t know him at all.

Eric brought his hand over to Harry’s cheeks, caressed them, and then stopped on his soft lips.

“We both know there wouldn’t be much sleep going on,” he smiled. “We have training tomorrow. We’re still playing like shit, we can’t afford to go there tired.”

“That’s bullshit,” Harry snapped and it broke the tenderness between them.

“Don’t start…” Eric sighed.

“Start what?” Harry asked. He pulled his hands back and he wrapped them around his knees. “Tell me that if we were top of the league, you’d stay.”

Eric opened his mouth, but in the end, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t even need to, his reaching for his jeans was all Harry needed to see. He lay back down, turned his back to Eric, and didn’t look up as Eric got dressed and left.

The house turned silent and empty. Then, Harry broke down in tears.

*

“What’s up, Delboy?” Eric asked as he entered the locker room the next morning “Winksy,” he nodded in Harry’s direction.

 _Winksy_.

It was always Winksy when they were with their teammates. It was innocuous enough, others also called him that way. In fact, at first Harry did his best to see the good side of it. This way Eric calling him Harry would be something special for their most intimate moments. And it was special, how sweet his name sounded from Eric’s mouth, how much tenderness and care Eric put into it every single time as if he could never tire of it.

But doubts soon filled Harry’s mind, a worry that Eric didn’t call him by his name because he wasn’t comfortable with it. Maybe he wanted to hide the fact that they were sharing something. Lying awake in his bed alone on nights like the last one, Harry wasn’t even sure if they were sharing anything at all. It might be all his imagination, because he was head over heels in love with Eric, there was no question about it. But was the feeling reciprocated?

Eric never felt the urge to hide his friendship with Dele, and their relationship was more than the usual camaraderie of two teammates. The doubt that was at first an innocent little shadow had by now made permanent residence in Harry’s thoughts.

Training went by quickly. Eric touched Harry now and then, but he made sure to never make it more than what would pass as normal. And just as they were done, showered and refreshed after a tiring session, Eric picked up his bag, and left without looking at Harry.

Harry didn’t stay much longer. He left the training ground, stopped to buy some groceries, and then drove home.

The street was almost empty, there was only one girl walking opposite Harry. As she got closer, a wide smile spread across her face. Harry, buried in his thoughts, smiled back, which the girl answered with a frown.

Only then Harry noticed a young man standing nearby. He opened his arms as the girl got closer, and he welcomed her with a tight embrace. They kissed as Harry walked by, and his heart sank.

How he longed to put that stupid smile on when he saw the one he loved! How he wished to walk into a pair of welcoming arms on the street in the light of day, not caring about what others thought, and what tomorrow would bring. As soon as he formed those wishes, he realized how naïve he was.

That future, the simple act of being in love that was so normal for almost everyone else, would never be his. It couldn’t be. He was a footballer, with dreams, with a career, and all the complications those entailed. He could love, but he could never be loved. Not by another man.

He climbed the few steps leading to his front door with a heavy heart, and he brooded the whole afternoon. His mood improved only later when Eric came over.

They sat next to each other, watching a rerun of a football game, Eric’s arm around Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s head on Eric’s chest. It was so peaceful and wonderful, and yet, the unspoken inevitability that it would soon end hung over them. Reality would catch up with their dreams, and they would have to say their goodbyes and return to their pretend life.

“Are you gonna stay the night?” Harry asked. He looked at Eric with his best pouting expression.

“No, I have to go home soon,” Eric said, never looking away from the telly. “Training was a killer today,” he yawned.

They sat in silence. Eric reached for his phone, checked his messages, typed a response, and resumed watching the game. Harry felt completely redundant; Eric would’ve done the same in the solitude of his home. He didn’t want to be pampered like a spoiled child, but he wanted to believe that his presence at least mattered to Eric.

“Okay, I better go now,” Eric said after some time. He patted Harry’s arm to let him know that he should sit up. Harry did so without complaint.

He watched as Eric stood up, pocketed his phone and brushed down the legs of his trousers. He walked past Harry towards the hall, leaving a cloud of cologne behind. Harry followed him, trying to save Eric’s scent for later, because he knew it wouldn’t be around for long.

“Are you sure you’re going home?” he asked while Eric stepped into his shoes.

“Where else would I be going?”

“Dunno. Maybe Dele’s?”

“Nah, not today,” Eric said, oblivious to what Harry worried about.

Harry cast his eyes down. This finally made Eric falter, but only for a moment. From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw him take an unsure step towards him, but then he turned around, got his coat, and left, the door slamming shut behind him.

This time, Harry steeled himself, and kept the tears back. He was reading too much into this. Eric told him he was going home, and there was no reason not to believe him. Eric was tired, and that was all. He hoped.

*

They won their next game, and they were ecstatic, Harry’s doubts all forgotten. In the dressing room, he grinned like a lunatic, and his heart almost melted when he saw Eric return his smile.

The team bus took them back to the training ground, and they all jumped into their cars, eager to share the joy of victory with their families and friends. Only Harry drove away with a heavy heart, checking his rear-view mirror every second, until he saw Eric’s Rover following him. His happiness returned, and he hit the gas.

Eric overtook him on the last stretch of the trip and waited him leaning against the front door with a playful smile on his face, his sports bag over his shoulder. They didn’t waste any time. The moment the door closed behind them, Harry flung himself against Eric’s body in the stairwell. He breathed in his scent and then he slammed their mouths together. Eric didn’t hesitate either, and their moment of rapt devotion was cut short only by the sound of approaching footsteps from the stairwell.

Eric bit on Harry’s lips in surprise and he pushed him away. Just as he did so, one of Harry’s neighbours appeared. She looked at the two footballers standing in the front door, not even a meter between them. Harry’s heart beat in his throat. The moment stretched to an eternity as the woman tried to make sense of what she was seeing. In the end she just shrugged and walked past, ignoring Harry’s greeting.

“That was close,” Harry said, chuckling. One look at Eric told him that Eric wasn’t sharing his carefreeness.

“Let’s go to your apartment,” he said, and the two started to climb the stairs in silence.

By the time they got into Harry’s hall, Harry knew their moment was gone; he’d be lucky to have Eric stay for more than an hour. Bitterness rose in his throat.

“You want a beer?” he asked.

“Why not,” Eric said.

Harry walked to the kitchen, reached into his fridge and brought out two cans of lager. He needed to take a few deep breaths to stop his hands from shaking. This wasn’t right, and he couldn’t live like this. Something was utterly wrong between Eric and him, and they had to talk it over.

He got the two cans and turned around, ready to barge into the living room and confront Eric, only to realize that Eric was standing right next to him, watching him with intent eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Sorry for what?” Harry asked, taken aback by Eric’s simple words.

“For being and idiot,” Eric said. He walked over to Harry, and took the cans from his hands, and put them back on the counter. He then took Harry’s hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, planting two soft kisses on Harry’s palms. “I see that you’re unhappy with me, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m not unhappy,” Harry was quick to say.

He gave himself a mental slap. Who was he kidding? Now that Eric had said it, he was quite sure that this was the case. He was still too afraid to admit it though, afraid that it would make it not only true, but also real.

“Don’t lie to me,” Eric said, his voice tender. He let go of Harry’s hands and leaned against the kitchen table. “I don’t want you to lie to make me happy. That’s what you’ve been doing for quite some time, and it needs to stop.”

“What’s going on, Eric?”

“What’s going on is that I feel like I’m losing you and I’m shitting my pants at the thought of it and the worst thing is that I’ve no idea what to do,” Eric said. He looked up, and Harry saw tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Harry,” he said, his voice breaking.

“You’re not,” Harry hurried over to him and embraced him. “I’m right here, okay?” It felt strange to be the one comforting Eric. Usually it was Harry who turned to Eric for support, and it felt like a big barrier was crashing down between them.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away in the corridor.”

“No, don’t be,” Harry said. “We wouldn’t want anyone to see us like that… together,” he said, tasting the word, and feeling hatred for the world.

“We wouldn’t?” Eric asked and Harry looked up at him. “You weren’t that quick to push me away. You’re much deeper into this relationship than I am. It’s just me who doesn’t want to be– well, open about us, and you go with it.”

“But that’s alright. If you’re not comfortable with it, I can wait.”

“No, you can’t,” Eric said. “And you shouldn’t. Because you’re in the right and I’m wrong. I can’t keep playing with you. It’s like I’m only using you. I come here when I need to be with you, and I leave once I’ve had enough, as if you were a toy I could throw away whenever I got bored of you. But the thing is, I never get bored of you, and I never want to. I love you, Harry, and I should have told you way sooner.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as Harry tried to process what he had just heard. A minute ago, he was certain that they would break up. Now, after Eric’s declaration, the one Harry had hoped to hear for such a long time, he felt relief above all.

“I love you too,” was all he could say in the end. They hugged again, Eric’s big hands rubbing Harry’s back.

“You think that I didn’t hear you cry or see your sad eyes when I left, but I did. I was just too afraid to go all the way.”

“Did it change?” Harry asked. “Because I don’t want you to play with me ever again. If you’re not ready, I can take it, but tell me.”

“I am ready,” Eric said, looking Harry straight in the eye, opening up, vulnerable. Harry could see that he was dead serious. “But I can only be brave enough by your side.”

“Okay,” Harry said, which had to be the stupidest reaction to such honesty, but Eric didn’t seem to mind.

They stood there, finding comfort in each other, leaving the past behind, and gathering strength for the future.

Leaving Eric’s embrace was the hardest thing to do, but Harry knew they needed to move on. The longer this moment lasted, the harder it would be for them to recover from it. He got the cans of beer and went to the living room, Eric at his heels. They both pretended to watch television, but they were too buried in their own thoughts to get what was on.

“One more thing,” Eric said and Harry’s heart sank into his stomach again. “I think Del suspects that we’re together,” this time, it was easier for him to say the word. “Maybe we could tell him? Only if you want to,” he added after Harry remained silent.

“I don’t know, Eric,” Harry said. “I can’t pretend that nothing happened. Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow with a clear head?”

“Okay, sure,” Eric nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I– shit, I don’t know what I want. I’ve no idea what we’re supposed to do now.”

“I have an idea,” Eric said. He put his beer on the coffee table, and stood up, offering his hand to Harry. “Come with me.”

Harry hesitated, but he took Eric’s hand nonetheless. They went to the hall, hand in hand. Eric led Harry to his sports bag, let go of his hand, squatted down, and started rummaging in the bag.

When he turned to Harry, he was holding his toothbrush in his right hand, and toothpaste in his left. It was a ridiculous sight, and it took Harry all his composure not to burst out laughing.

“Can I stay for the night?” Eric asked sheepishly.

Harry didn’t give him a straight answer; he stepped over to him, and kissed him like he had never kissed him before.


End file.
